Henry Charles Bukowski

A Hero’s Place

By E.P Graham

Have you ever met a man who had no business being famous, no business begin a success, but become a pillar of greatness anyway? I’ve never met one of these men, but I know of one. This man surprisingly is my current hero. I have had a few heroes over the years, though this man is my current one. I see myself in him, even though he is a ghost now. Despite this I’ve never related to anyone else more.

Perhaps our heroes are who are relatable to us, but in some way they out do us. This is what has made them our hero, because they do something that we can’t, even though they are so similar us. And for me, this man did something that I’ve struggle to do my entire life; he found his place.

My hero is dead, but he lives on through continuously coursing his essence throughout the atmosphere that resonates with me the most: the literary atmosphere. There are many other writers in this place of alphabetical wonderment, though this man is different. Despite working in a post office for nearly three decades, while being an unsuccessful published author, he never lost his connection with his one true love: writing. Regardless of the turmoil and self-inflicted torture that was ever present in his life, he never relinquished his relationship with his passion. Once he found his soul’s origin, he never removed it from there, the place in front of his typewriter.

I have strived numerous times to find my place. Find the thing I should be apart of, where I should be, but what I have found failed to resonate with me every time I discovered it. Etched my hero’s gravestone is a quote of his: “Don’t Try.” This sentiment seems so contradictory; you would think someone who became successful made it because he never stopped trying, but for my hero this wasn’t the case. “Don’t Try” is to not strain yourself to be a part of where you shouldn’t be, because you will miss where you are meant for. We often strain ourselves to be a part of where we have no business being, while more than likely where we should be is found right in front of us.

My hero’s genuine self-expression, despite the results of that expression, is perhaps not only the most inspiring lifestyle I have ever heard of, but also it is the most beautiful. I see so many people struggling and yearning to achieve such greatness in a field where they should even be; I was one of them for very long. For decades I was implementing myself in other creative fields or service work, never acknowledging the gift I already had within me. 

I found myself writing one day, which was a stowed away previous hobby that I had lost interest in. Than, all of a sudden I was hysterically crying because I finally found my place. The place I had always been longing to find, my soul’s origin. I hope this is where my hero is resting; he lived here, and I hope he is still there.

Our souls each have their own origin, unique to all individuals. I figure that this is the difference between heroes and those who aspire to be like them. Our heroes have found that special place where their soul begins, and have spent the rest of their existence at that place.

I am done trying to discover my soul’s origin; my hero has inspired me too. My parents, loves, and brothers never told me that to find my place in life all I had to do is to let it find me. Perhaps they didn’t tell me because they are still searching for their place; perhaps they did they best they could. I love them for that, but none of them are my hero.  

My hero is my hero because he is different. He didn’t strive or seek to find his place; he let it come to him. He let is soul guide him to where he belonged so he could rest peacefully there known he lived out doing what he was meant to. My hero, my hero is the late and great German poet, novelist, and short story writer Henry Charles Bukowski.